


Tin Soldier

by shaenie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Kink Bingo 2013, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaenie/pseuds/shaenie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve’s read about it, he’d known some guys in the war, and he may have had a few fantasies about Bucky that he’d never told anyone about, ever, but he’s never seen it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tin Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> For the Voyeurism Square on my Kink Bingo card (amnesty), and with my deepest appreciation to wolfshark and fiercelydreamed, for always cheerleading, and to Winterstar95, who betas like the wind! <3 Thank you ladies.

The first time it happens, Steve is just wandering the tower because he can’t sleep. When he hears voices coming from Bruce’s lab, he’s actually kind of relieved. Company would be good.

But when he rounds the corner to the lab, the voices resolve themselves into something a little more coherent, or something more intelligible anyway, since coherence implies that something makes sense. This doesn’t make sense at all.

“Do it, do it,” Tony is groaning, and then Bruce: “Shut up, you’re such a little bitch when you’re needy.”

Steve takes another few steps before his mind strings those two sentences together, and he decides he doesn’t want to know, but it’s too late. He can already see the two of them.

Tony is on the floor on his knees, shirt missing, jeans bunched around his knees. Bruce is right behind him, jeans also a puddle at his knees, shirt on but unbuttoned. Tony’s back is arched into a deep bow, and Bruce, his face a mask of concentration, is leaning forward into Tony’s space. It isn’t until Bruce’s shirt flips away on one side that Steve really understands what’s happening.

He’s read about it, he’d known some guys in the war, and he may have had a few fantasies about Bucky that he’d never told anyone about, ever, but he’s never seen it.

Bruce’s cock, long and deeply red, is slowly working its way into Tony’s body. Tony is shoving back, rocking back on it, and Bruce is trying to hold him still. “Just be still,” Bruce hisses.

“If you would just fuck me already…” Tony begins, but then Bruce is leaning over Tony’s back and Tony stops talking to make a long, low sound of pleasure that instantly ignites a blush on Steve’s cheeks.

“God, Tony,” Bruce breathes and rocks his hips once, slowly.

Tony snarls, “I know you can fucking do better than that, Bruce,” and rocks back until he’s almost in Bruce’s lap. Bruce lets out a little groan, hands tight on Tony’s hips, and pulls back. When he shoves in again, Tony lets out a harsh little cry that devolves into profanity, and Steve, face burning, retreats silently the way he’d come, trying not to think about anything at all, but especially not about how they’d looked.

**

The second time, Steve is headed down to the garage to get his bike. It’s two in the afternoon, and it’s the first really beautiful day they’ve had all spring. He’s looking forward to riding.

He’s halfway to his bike -- parked at the end of the row of Tony’s ridiculous number of cars -- before he hears the echo of something strange. He tips his head, trying to pinpoint the origin of the echo, which is tricky because it’s a garage, and therefore full of echoes. He thinks he hears it coming from Tony’s Mustang, a thump-thump-thump noise, and walks as silently as he can toward it. 

It isn’t until he reaches the rear of the Mustang that he sees them. 

Bruce is on his knees on the ground, pressed back over the fender a little. Tony is standing almost on top of him, feet on either side of Bruce’s knees, and he’s pressing his cock between Bruce’s wet lips. Bruce’s eyes are closed, but he has his hand in his lap, doing something that Steve can’t see because of the shadows, but he knows what it is anyway. The thump-thump-thump noise is Bruce’s head bumping against the side of the fender every time Tony pushes his cock into Bruce’s mouth. Tony’s face is flushed and he has his hands wound tightly into Bruce’s hair. Under his breath, he’s muttering, “Yeah, Bruce, just like that, I fucking love your mouth,” and Bruce is letting out a soft but continuous whining sound that can’t be mistaken for a sound of complaint.

Steve backs away, silent as he can manage to avoid creating echoes of his own, and makes it back to the elevator in some kind of fugue of panic. He tries not to think, like last time, tries not to remember how they looked, but this time he can’t stop thinking of the soft pleasure-whine Bruce had been making. It follows him all the way up to his suite, and then all the way down to the gym, where he concentrates all of his efforts on blocking out the sound with his fists on the heavy bag.

**

For a while, it doesn’t happen again, and Steve relaxes, content with the hope that they’ve decided to keep their activities confined to one of their bedrooms. He stops avoiding Bruce’s lab and the garage, because honestly, he’s been in both place a hundred times while everyone was clothed, so he’s probably safe enough. If he sometimes get’s flashes of what it had looked like when Bruce was pressing into Tony or of the sound of Bruce’s soft whine, well it’s probably not that unusual. He had been surprised and embarrassed. Stuff like that tends to stick with a person.

Tony had actually called Steve to come to his workshop when he had a minute -- there were some changes Steve wants to make to the uniform -- and sure, that was four hours ago, but he somehow still feels betrayed to see both Tony and Bruce completely naked, kneeling together on the floor in a pile of their clothes, their hands wrapped together around both of their cocks while they kiss heatedly and jerked themselves off. 

Steve is outside the workshop and the door is closed, so he can’t hear anything at least, and either one of them could look up and see him standing there at any second, but he finds himself lingering anyway.

There’s something about them like this, something different. This… this is something he could have almost pulled out of his fantasies about Bucky. Not the total nudity -- he isn’t sure why, but he’d never pictured himself and Bucky naked together -- but the act itself. Kissing and touching each other, though. Steve had thought about that. It makes some of the other things he’s seen Tony and Bruce do seem a little less outrageous. It gives a whole different context.

Before Steve can retreat, Tony throws his head back, his face soft with pleasure, and Steve can’t quite stop himself from looking down at their joined hands as Tony shoots.

He turns quickly and races up the stairs before they see him or he sees more.

But he knows he’s not going to forget this time.

**

The first time Steve does it on purpose (it’s actually the third time, but the first two were fruitless), Tony and Bruce are in Bruce’s lab again. He rounds the safe corner and hears Bruce, voice low and cracking, begging, “Tony, please, Tony, Tony, please!”

He walks a little way further and hears the slap of skin on skin, fast and rhythmic.

Tony says, “Just another minute, Bruce, just hold on another minute.”

Steve rounds the corner that lets him see into the lab -- aware that if they’re looking that way, they’ll see him -- and sees Bruce spread out on top of one of the lab tables. He’s gripping either side, and his legs are spread wide. Steve can even see the hard length of Bruce’s cock, pushed straight down by the edge of the table. Tony is half-behind and half-atop him, one knee up on the table while he drives his cock into Bruce so fast it’s almost a blur. Bruce’s face is twisted with need; Tony’s is tight with concentration. 

“Tony,” Bruce gasps. “I need to, I need to come.”

“As soon as I’m done,” Tony pants. “As soon as I shoot your ass full of come, then you can do whatever you want to me.”

Steve blushes, but is aware of it only distantly.

Bruce groans in frustration, but his cock is still red and hard, he’s still holding himself still for Tony, who is now slamming into Bruce so hard that he’s flushed and his face is strained, and Steve realizes that Tony is holding back on purpose, though he can’t guess why.

“Tony,” Bruce whispers. “Tony.”

Tony snarls out a rough, effortful sound, hips snapping and then shoves tight up against Bruce’s ass, shuddering for several long seconds. “Okay,” Tony gasps. “Okay, Bruce.”

Tony slides off the table at the same time that Bruce stands up and turns around, shoving Tony roughly to his knees. Tony tilts his head back and opens his mouth, and Bruce pushes his cock between Tony’s open lips. Except. Except he doesn’t stop. Steve is an artist, he has a good eye, and he’d seen the length of Bruce’s cock. There was no way Tony should have been able to fit it all in his mouth, but Bruce has a hand on Tony’s shoulder and is bent at the waist, and he has the entire length of his cock shoved into Tony.

“Teasing cocksucker,” Bruce growls. “Take it all, swallow every inch. Gonna fuck your throat til you’re raw.”

Steve blinks for a few seconds, his eyes fixing on Tony’s throat, and he can’t see anything, but the angle… the angle could be right.

This time when he walks away, he’s still blushing, but he’s also smoldering, his cock a heavy weight between his thighs. He can imagine fucking Bruce, he can imagine pushing the whole length of his cock down Tony’s throat, and he knows that’s not the whole part of it. He knows he has to think about what it would be like to be fucked like Bruce had been, and what it would be like to open his mouth for Bruce’s cock, but he’s not quite there yet.

For the first time, he goes back to his room and jerks off frantically.

**

It happens again by accident -- Steve has decided not to go looking again, that it’s wrong and unfair to see them like that without their knowledge -- in one of the places that Steve would have least expected it. 

He isn’t even trying to be quiet when he swings into the gym, but it doesn’t matter. Bruce is shouting out loud, and Steve should go immediately, but is drawn in by the sound. Bruce is on his back on one of the weight benches, his hands curled around the uprights where the bar should sit, except… 

Except that’s not it. His hands are tied to the uprights; he’s clenching and unclenching his fists, pulling against the ropes hard enough that his forearms are bunching and twisting. Steve can’t see Bruce’s face at all. Tony’s body is between them, his back curled over Bruce, his legs bent, and this time Steve can see exactly what is happening.

Tony’s ass flexes, and Bruce is nearly folded in half on top of the bench, and he can see Tony’s cock tugging out of Bruce’s hole, he can see the way that Bruce is stretched tight around the slick, wide shaft of Tony’s cock, he can see it when Tony slams his hips forward and Bruce shouts, and Tony is saying, “Yeah, Bruce, yeah, yeah, take my cock,” and shoving into Bruce again, and Bruce shouts again, and Tony groans, “I love it when you can’t get away, love it when your hole is helpless,” and Steve can feel himself hardening in his sweats. “Going to fuck you until you beg to come,” Tony snarls, low and grating, and Bruce lets out a sound that is half-shout, half-sob.

It doesn’t sound like a bad sound, exactly, but it sort of slaps Steve back into his brain about three seconds before he would have started to get closer so that he could see the look on Bruce’s face. Still, he hesitates for a few more seconds, watching Tony’s cock pound in and out of Bruce, listening to Bruce shout hoarsely, listening to Tony groan with effort as he fucks Bruce hard.

He finally manages to disengage from it, backing slowly back out of the gym, and he tells himself that it’s four in the morning, so they probably thought they were pretty safe doing whatever they wanted here, but he can’t help but think that it’s like they _want_ to get caught. There’s no way they don’t have access to anything else to tie Bruce to safely in Tony’s room, so what’s the point of doing it here?

When Steve gets back to his room, he Googles ‘sex in public’ which leads him to a lot of porn sites, but also eventually takes him to a wiki page on “Exhibitionism.” Which actually explains a lot. It itches at Steve, though. There’s a difference between liking the thrill of being potentially caught by having sex in public places and actual exhibitionism. With exhibitionism, the point is to have someone watch. Steve can’t tell which thing it is Bruce and Tony are going for.

For a few seconds, he imagines what might have happened if he’d kept walking, circling around the bench so they could see him. The idea makes his cheeks heat, but it makes his cock jerk in his sweats. And even with the self-education, Steve has no idea how they would react. He isn’t that worried about Tony; Steve’s comfortable saying that Tony wouldn’t be embarrassed, exhibitionist or not. Tony just doesn’t have it in him to get upset by something as trivial as public sex in his own building.

Steve would hate to embarrass Bruce, though. Bruce can be shy, and if not for everything he’s seen so far, he’d have said Bruce was too _private_ to want to be seen like that. Steve would have said was too private to take part in it, actually. The lab in the middle of the night, maybe, but the rest?

Now Steve just doesn’t know.

Which doesn’t stop him from stripping down and lying back on his bed and closing his eyes to let the memory of it play out behind his eyelids.

**

The last time, or at least, the last time it matters, Steve finds them in the penthouse, which, okay, definitely isn’t in public, even though most everyone hangs out in it from time to time. Steve has come for a sketchbook he’d left the last time, and there’s no question of them knowing he’s there. The elevator dings when the door opens.

Bruce glances over -- he’s standing, his hand in Tony’s hair, his cock pressed between Tony’s lips -- and sees Steve there. There is no embarrassment as far as Steve can tell; not even any surprise. Tony, on his knees, rolls his eyes a little to the side to look at Steve, but he doesn’t otherwise move. Tony’s cock is red and hard and parallel to the floor; there is something black wrapped around the base of it, something that seems to pull around the base of his balls, as well. His hands are tied up behind his back, though Steve can’t see quite how, only that his hands seem pulled up between his shoulder blades.

“Steve,” Bruce says, voice steady, even a little glad sounding.

Steve considers the idea of backing into the elevator and just never speaking of it again. Instead, he takes a step forward, unsure if he wants to or even means to. He says, “I left my sketchbook up here earlier.”

Bruce nods genially. He pulls his hips back slightly, and then pushes back into Tony’s mouth. Tony makes a low sound, and Steve sees his dark lashes flutter against one cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, though he’s not, exactly.

“Why?” Bruce asks, and Steve doesn’t really have an answer.

He tries: “For walking in on you.”

Bruce smiles faintly. “We could have locked the penthouse,” he says. “Besides, it’s not the first time you’ve walked in on us, is it?”

Steve’s face goes hot.

“It’s not even the second,” Bruce says, watching Steve. Tony, Steve sees, is tipping his face a little toward Steve as well. “The first time was the lab.” Bruce smirks a little. “It’s mostly glassed in; we caught sight of you as you were fleeing.”

Steve would like to say that he wasn’t fleeing, except that he knows better.

“And it was you in the gym, wasn’t it?” Bruce asks.

Steve nods.

“I thought I saw a shadow.” He makes a little frowny face. “I wouldn’t have picked that as something for you to see without a little more context.” He shifts his hips back and slides his cock into Tony’s mouth; Steve can see Tony’s cheeks hollow as he sucks.

“Why not?” Steve asks, but he thinks he knows.

“It’s kind of a lot to process without more experience,” Bruce says.

“That wasn’t the second time,” Steve says, and he’s so embarrassed and potentially ashamed that his face must be scarlet, but his voice sounds steady to him. “That was the garage. Up against Tony’s Mustang.”

Bruce seems to consider that for a long moment, and then nods. “How many times?” he asks.

“Five,” Steve says, still steady. “And this is none of my business, and you can tell me that if you want to. But there is a thing where you have sex in public places because of the thrill that you might get caught, and there is a different thing where you just want to be watched. And I can’t tell which it is for you, or if it’s both.” Steve’s tone is almost apologetic. “And I know it could be neither. It could just be that the whole building belongs to Tony, and Tony isn’t exactly shy.”

“In this case, I think all three apply,” Bruce says, smiling. Tony tries to pull back, and Bruce spreads his hand along the back of his head to keep him still. “Let me,” he says, clearly talking to Tony. Tony huffs out a breath, but doesn’t try to pull off again. Steve is kind of mesmerised by Tony’s cock.

“What is that?” he asks, making a gesture that he knows is deliberately vague.

“Before we get into that, are you going to take your sketchbook and go, or do you have plans to stick around?” Bruce asks, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable question.

Steve is stumped for several seconds. “Do you… I mean, is this what you want? Both of you, I mean. For me to stay and watch?”

“It’s one of the things we want,” Bruce says. “But we don’t want you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Steve pauses, thinking about that, hung up on the implications.

“What is that thing?” Steve asks again, hoarse this time.

“It’s a cock ring,” Bruce says. “It can be used to maintain an erection that might fade without deliberate attention, although Tony has never had that problem. For him, I use it to keep him from coming. Some guys can come with a cock ring on; it just takes more time and effort. Tony can’t.”

Steve shudders a little, and realizes his arms are crossed over his chest and he’s gripping his upper arms tightly enough to actually hurt a little.

“If you don’t want to be here, Steve, nobody is going to hold it against you,” Bruce says gently.

But Steve isn’t sure he won’t hold it against _himself_. “First, tell me what you want me to do,” he says, and all the shakiness in his voice that had been missing before is abruptly present.

“For now, we just want you to watch,” Bruce says, and Tony lets out a low moan, almost pleading.

“For now,” Steve repeats.

“Sometime you might want something else,” Bruce says. “We’ll have to see how this part goes before we can guess at that.”

Steve takes another step forward. Bruce and Tony are only a few feet away. He looks down at them for a few seconds, and then sinks to the floor, legs folded. He can feel himself shaking and blushing, but short of one of them asking him to go, he can’t imagine actually doing it.

At this angle, he’s got a better view of everything; he watches Tony’s cock jerk and he lets out another of those low moans. Bruce closes his eyes for a moment, as though in relief. 

“If you want to see something in particular,” Bruce says, “you can ask.”

“This is…” Steve says, and has to pause to swallow past the anticipatory knot in his throat. “This is good.”

Bruce takes his word for it. He slides his hand back into Tony’s hair and pulls him onto his cock; Tony goes willingly. Steve can see his lips, red and flushed, wrapped around the shaft of Bruce’s cock, can see the way his hands twist behind his back. Tony’s face is hectic with color, and Bruce’s is a little hard as he works his cock into Tony’s mouth.

“All the way,” Bruce says, and Tony shifts up onto his knees tipping his head back, and this time Steve can see the way the angle shifts and he hears Tony make a soft, brief choking sound, and then Bruce is pushing right in, more of his length pressing into Tony’s vulnerable looking mouth until Tony’s face is pressed into the thatch of hair at Bruce’s groin.

Steve’s cock throbs in his pants and he shifts to try to give it more room.

Tony’s hands twist, and Bruce pulls back, completely out this time, long and gleaming with Tony’s spit. 

Tony takes advantage of it, glancing over at Steve and giving him a little grin.

Steve, entirely without thought, says, “I’d like to see you fuck him.”

Tony’s eyes widen, and he glances up at Bruce for a second; Bruce is looking down at Tony. “That was in the cards tonight anyway,” he says. Then, to Tony, “Do I need to gag you.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Tony says, his voice husky; Steve can imagine why, and it shoots a jolt of pleasure up his spine.

“Then no talking to Steve,” Bruce says. “You can tell him whatever you think he needs to know after, but this time we agreed to let me handle it.”

Tony is nodding. “Can I say one thing?” he asks.

Bruce quirks a smile. “I can’t say I expected you not to,” he admits.

Tony’s gaze drops down the the tent in Steve’s trousers. “You can take that out,” he says. “Just because you’re watching, doesn’t mean you can’t handle yourself however you need to.”

A white flash descends over Steve’s vision for a few seconds, and then, seeming helpless to resist the power of Tony’s gaze, Steve shifts up to his knees and unzips his pants. After a moment, he tugs down his underwear, tucking it behind his balls, and though he doesn’t touch himself, he can feel how hard he is already, and how badly he wants his hand on his own cock.

Tony stares at Steve’s groin, mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Bruce says, “Very nice,” and Steve’s face heats painfully. “Move around here a little,” Bruce suggests. “You can watch me open him up.” Even as he’s saying it, he’s retrieving a large throw pillow from the couch and tipping Tony forward over it, so that it’s bracing his chest.

Steve knee-walks over to Bruce, and takes a long moment to study Tony’s muscular ass. 

“Spread nice and wide,” Bruce murmurs. “Let Steve see what you’ve got.”

A shudder racks Tony’s body, but he spread his thighs wide, until Steve can see the dark crease between his buttocks and the pink skin around his hole. Bruce reaches around Tony and produces a bottle of lube, and Steve watches, enraptured, as Bruce lubes up three fingers, and then slicks some lube across the tiny pucker of Tony’s hole. Tony shivers again, and then Bruce is pressing a finger into him and Tony’s whole body shakes; he makes a soft, mewling sound of want, and Steve’s cock jerks in response.

Bruce presses a single finger into Tony for less than a minute; Tony is rocking back onto it within thirty seconds, and Steve sees Bruce twist his wrist slightly. Tony cries out, back bowing, and Bruce takes advantage of it to add another wet finger. Steve stares at how Bruce’s fingers stretch Tony’s hole. Tony rocks back onto his fingers, groaning now, mouth open and letting out harsh breaths. Bruce scissors his fingers inside Tony, and Tony growls out a little frustrated sound which pitches upward into a wail of pleasure as Brue twists his wrist again.

“Now,” Tony says harshly, but it’s a request, not a demand.

“It’s going to burn,” is all Bruce says, but Tony makes a hoarse noise of anticipation.

Bruce tugs his fingers free of Tony’s body; for a moment, Steve can see inside Tony, pink and slick, and he feels dizzy on his knees next to Bruce. Then Bruce is slicking up his cock and pressing it against Tony’s hole.

“Go watch his face,” Bruce suggests, and Steve doesn’t hesitate. He only wishes he could see everything at once.

Tony’s face is already twisted with want, mouth open and wet, pupils blown, and he turns to look at Steve as though he hardly knows he’s there. But it’s perfect, the perfect angle to see Tony’s face as Bruce works his cock inside, Tony’s face clenched with pain, then twisting up into need, eyes glassy, strangled gasps falling from his lips. He rocks back on Bruce’s cock like he had on his fingers, and desperation leaks into his face. “Bruce, come on,” he begs, face slack with pleasure. “Bruce, I need…”

“I know what you need,” Bruce says. “You need Steve to see what your asshole looks like when it’s stretched around my cock.”

Tony gasps and his eyes widen; for a moment, his dazed eyes fix on Steve and Steve honestly can’t tell if Tony is excited by the idea or humiliated. He thinks -- and he doesn’t have any solid idea why he thinks it -- that it may be both. “Steve…” he gasps out.

“I want to see,” Steve says, and Tony’s neck goes loose for a moment, head hanging down. Then he’s nodding, lifting his head slightly, and his eyes are bright with want and terror. It’s an expression Steve never would have guessed would turn him, on, but seeing it on Tony’s face makes the base of Steve’s spine twist sharply. His cock jerks between his legs, and Tony glances down to look at it, his expression going momentarily sharp, but he doesn’t say anything.

Steve shuffles back down to Bruce, who has pulled all the way out of Tony, and is apparently just waiting for Steve, his hands caressing on Tony’s hips. Tony’s hands are clenching and unclenching behind his back, and he’s breathing harshly, but he’s making no move to resist -- has actually spread his knees a little wider, either for balance or to offer Steve a good view, Steve has no idea which.

“Watch,” Bruce says, and presses the thick head of his cock against Tony’s hole, which is reddened a little, but still looks far too small to take it. Bruce arches forward with his whole body, and Tony whines out something that contains elements of both pain and pleasure, and Steve watches, entranced, as the plum colored head of Bruce’s cock first presses, then begins to stretch Tony’s hole, and then finally disappears inside. Tony is whining, but he still rocks back on Bruce’s cock as soon as the head is inside. Bruce’s hands clench on Tony’s hips, holding him still, and he pulls out almost all the way, and slams back inside without hesitation. Tony yells something out, and Bruce pulls back about halfway this time, and tucks his thumbs into the meat of Tony’s ass. He pulls Tony open so Steve can see the way Bruce’s cock stretches Tony out; Tony makes a hoarse sound that might have been humiliation, but Bruce holds him open like that for several strokes, letting Steve see. 

Then he shifts his hips and presses Tony a little forward and draws back and rams forward into Tony’s ass hard. Tony shouts, almost a scream, definitely all pleasure, and Bruce does it again and again, until Tony is holding himself as still as he can, trembling with effort, not even rocking back onto Bruce’s cock now.

“Take it off,” Tony whispers, “Bruce, please.”

“When I come,” Bruce says. And then, “When Steve comes.”

Something about that makes Tony husk out a desperate little sob.

Steve struggles backward a little, so that he can see the stretch of both of their bodies, the way they rock together, the hard length of Tony’s cock beneath him, neglected. Bruce’s face is fierce with desire and love and it’s hard to look at. Tony is easier; he’s desperate, his face strained with need, and the sight of Bruce’s cock disappearing into Tony’s ass, even from the side, where he can only see the curve of Tony’s ass cheek as Bruce’s cock slides between them, impaling Tony on Bruce’s shaft, makes Steve’s head feel swimmy and unreal.

“I,” he says, and Tony says, “Please,” at the same time that Bruce says, “Whatever you want.”

Steve wraps his fist around his cock and it aches in his hand as though bruised, but it’s good, the sight of the two of them is so good, and to be honest, he’s been hard for them for weeks now, hard for them together, and he doesn’t think it will take him very long.

He understands that he’s here to watch, not to touch, but he wants to touch. He wants to take the ring off of Tony’s cock, and isn’t sure how to ask for permission to do that.

“Bruce,” he manages, gasping. “When I, when, can I take the…”

“Yeah,” Bruce says roughly. “Wait for me.”

“Bruce,” Tony begs, his voice raw and wrecked and aching. “I need to, Bruce,” and then, “Steve,” almost a whisper, and Steve shudders helplessly at the way Tony’s voice sounds wrapped around Steve’s name when Tony is like this, so helpless with need, and then raises his head from where it had been hanging over the edge of the cushion and looks at him, his eyes dark and red-rimmed. His expression is eloquent, a naked look, pleading and urgent, and something in Steve wells up from someplace in his guts, desperate to answer that look.

Steve’s cock is such a dense ache that he can hardly stand it, he is jerking off harder than he ever has, he’s sure, and that look, that abjuration, is enough to rock him back on his heels and choke out a cry, rocking his hips up and driving his cock through his fist. He comes in several harsh spurts, each one enough to tear a little cry from his throat. Tony stares, hungry, and Bruce makes a sound, something a little high, like surprise. When Steve looks at him, Bruce is looking back, and he says, “You’re absolutely fucking beautiful.”

Steve’s face heats, but his belly and chest curl with warmth as well, and the hot cradle of lust between his hipbones feels hardly sated at all.

“It’s all snaps,” Bruce says a little harshly. Steve blinks in total lack of understanding. “The cock ring,” Bruce says patiently. “It’s all snaps. All you have to do is find the end of it and give it a sharp jerk.”

Tony whines, still looking at Steve, imploring, and Steve barely manages to look away long enough to look back at Bruce and nod his understanding.

“Go ahead and find it,” Bruce says. His hips are snapping roughly, and Tony is gasping out “ah, ah, ah, ah, ah,” with every thrust, and Steve can see in Bruce’s face that he’s just waiting now, waiting for Steve to find the end of the cock ring.

Steve leans in close to Tony, and can’t help it, he’s inhaling deeply, smelling both of them, both of them and himself, smelling sweat and sex and the leather around Tony’s wrists. He gropes for the cock ring, and his hand slides along the top of Tony’s cock. Tony cries out and goes very still, and Steve wants to capture the length of it in his palm, just to hear that sound again; he doesn’t, barely, and is more careful this time, ducking down so that he can see, finding the end, holding it between his thumb and the side of his index finger.

“You ready, Tony?” Bruce demands, breathless, a little sharp.

“Please, Bruce, I need,” Tony gasps. “Please.”

“Steve has the reins,” Bruce says. “Are you sure it should be me you’re asking?”

Tony swings his face around again with that same raw, naked look. “Steve,” he whispers hoarsely. “I need to come, I need it, please let me, please.”

Bruce shouts and jerks hard, his hips slapping against Tony’s ass; Tony groans, back arching, but he’s still looking at Steve, helpless and hopeful, as Bruce groans out his orgasm.

Steve waits another handful of seconds, Tony chanting, “Please, Steve, please, please,” and then gives the strap a jerk. He feels the snaps pop open one at a time, and Tony sobs out a hoarse little bark of sound, but he doesn’t come. He goes up to his knees, pressing his back against Bruce’s front, his hands trapped between them, his head rocked back onto Bruce’s shoulder. His hips are working slightly, pressing back onto Bruce still inside him, and his cock is jerking and dripping precome. Bruce slings an arm around his belly up to his shoulder and holds him there.

“Look at Steve,” Bruce says, low and hot, and Tony turns his face toward Steve.

There are tear tracks on his face now, and his face is shattered with his need, eyes dazed, mouth red and wet and bitten, and he’s not trying to hide it at all, is just looking at Steve, all that begging desire on display, and then Bruce closes his fist around Tony’s cock.

Tony’s back arches and he screams out a low, rough sound, his face twisting for a moment, and then relaxing all at once as he shoots, come puddling on Bruce’s fingers, but also spurting out twice, hitting the pillow as his hips jerk against Bruce’s grip.

Steve just stares, dazed, oblivious to the mess of his own right hand and hard again, and there are things he doesn’t quite understand, why Tony’s hands are bound, why Bruce had been tied before, but even without that lack of understanding, he understands they are important. He knows just from the way it feels to imagine his own hands bound, just the way that makes him taut and breathless, even if he can’t say why.

“Hold him up for a minute,” Bruce says, and Steve does it without thought, bracing Tony with the side of his body, aware when Tony drops his head down against the back of Steve’s neck, breathing hard, his brow damp with sweat. Tony’s body rocks a little against Steve, and after a few seconds Tony’s hands, apparently free now, come up to rest against Steve’s back as well, his fingertips pressed into the muscle of Steve’s back. Steve shivers at the feel of Tony touching him, however innocently. The Bruce is pulling Tony down to sit on his heels, and Bruce moves around to sit to one side of Tony’s knees. He gestures Steve to do the same, and Steve does it without question, so that the three of them are sitting in a loose triangle.

Tony’s expression is still completely blissed and he’s smiling a little, but he’s at home behind his eyes, flickering from Steve to Bruce and back again.

Bruce hands Steve a towel, and Steve absently cleans his come off his own hand.

When Steve hands it back, Bruce it watching him with careful consideration. “We loved having you here,” he says, and Tony makes a low sound of agreement. “And you’re welcome to come back any time. If you’re uncomfortable someplace less private, we’ll come to you.” Bruce is silent for a moment, still observing Steve with glittering eyes. “But you aren’t, are you?”

Steve tries to consider that with some objectivity, but it’s hard. He’ll watch them wherever they are. He wants to.

As though he can read Steve’s mind, Bruce says, “But if it’s ever more than this, you won’t want it to be somewhere public for that.”

Steve tries to think about that, too, but he’s too hung up on ‘if it’s ever more than this.’ As if that were an actual possibility. And. And he thinks Bruce is wrong. Steve might be more comfortable someplace private, but his comfort isn’t all that important to him. It’s nice to have, but that’s exactly what it is: comfort. Not necessary for survival.

“When you say more than this, what do you mean?” Steve asks, making sure to include them both in the question. “What is it you’re… inviting me to do?”

“Whatever you want,” Tony says. His tone would be matter-of-fact if his voice weren’t still slurred with pleasure. “What would you want to do with us?”

“Anything,” Steve says truthfully. “If that means doing it somewhere less private, I’m okay with that.”

Bruce’s brows arch. “I would have guessed you’d be too shy,” he says seriously.

“I would have guessed the same about you, Bruce,” Steve says. “I wondered about it.”

Bruce cocks his head. “That’s fair,” he says. “But before you say ‘anything’ I feel like you should know more about what anything is. So, for now, just this, except you can touch and talk and get comfortable with the situation. And then if you still want ‘anything’ we can talk about that.”

“Talk about it,” Tony repeats, rolling his eyes a little. “He’s hard again right now, Bruce.”

“It’s the serum,” Steve admits. “I have… a lot of stamina.”

Tony grins. “I’ll bet you do.”

Steve blushes, but finds himself grinning back.

Bruce gets up and fetches them all bottles of orange juice. Tony looks at his with disgust, but opens it up and guzzles it half down anyway.

“Listen,” Steve says, after working up a little nerve to ask the question. “Is this… could it have been anybody? I mean, anyone that saw you?”

Tony and Bruce exchange looks. “It could be anyone watching us,” Tony says carefully. “It doesn’t matter who. That gets me off. But if you’re asking if we’d invite anyone else to make this into a merry threesome, then, no. It couldn’t have been just anybody. It had to be you.”

Bruce is nodding. “You’ll fit with us, Steve. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. If all you want to do is watch, that’s okay. But if you have other wants, that’s okay, too.”

Steve is surprised by the rush of relief that washes over him.

Tony grins. “You’ll have questions, but lets wait a while on those tonight. I just came my brains out at least partly just because I knew you were looking at me, and I don’t feel up to twenty questions.”

Steve nods. He does have questions, but he’s also post-orgasmic, and isn’t sure he could get them together enough to be all that coherent with them.

“So we’ll talk tomorrow,” Bruce says, sounding satisfied. “Before orgasms. Get all those questions out of the way. But until then, we need one answer.”

Steve looks back and forth between their serious faces. “What?”

“Are you planning on sticking around a while, to watch, if nothing else?” Tony asks. “Because if you aren’t, it’s better not to get invested in you that way, Steve.”

Steve hears what Tony really means and his heart hammers in his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he answers honestly.


End file.
